I Am Hidden In Christ

Looking Back: Remembering that I Am Hidden in Christ

The Lord is my rock and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength in who I trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation and my high tower.” – Ps. 18:2, NASB

What do butterflies, chickens, Africa, and an orange stocking cap have in common? Hide-and-seek, silly! Okay, maybe not really, but we’ll be talking about that quirky list this week.

I am hidden in Christ. He conceals me, yet sets me apart. He keeps me safe even as earthly storms rage. He comforts me, changes me, claims me, and never, ever lets me go. He is my rock, my deliverer, my strength, and my salvation.

Are you hidden in Christ?

I Have an Anchor

Feather-Heads and Fences

The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul; the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple; the statures of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes; the fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever; the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether. ~Psalm 19:8-10, NKJV

The question is inevitable. Every year one of my AWANA kids asks it, usually about the time that they are memorizing the Ten Commandments.

Why does God have so many rules?

It’s interesting to think about this question. Probing it always leads me to dig for the root—where does that question really begin? Why do I think that God has too many rules? Why do I want to know why God has laid out these rules? Why do I have a hard time following them?

The most obvious answer is sin. A rebellious, stubborn heart which yearns for its own way says to the God of these ‘rules,’ you can’t tell me what to do! Or I’ll do it my own way! That would be me, anyway. I don’t like paperwork, rarely follow a recipe, and usually like to figure out things on my own. That’s my stubborn personality (which, believe me, can work out very poorly!).

But, maybe there’s something else playing in this scenario, another root that is causing this nagging question about God and his rules. Perhaps there is, at the very core of this query, a misunderstanding.

I pondered this idea this morning as I was putting my chickens, yet again, back in their yard. Sadly, we can’t let them free-range. We live on the open prairie, and chickens wandering out in the unprotected space are prone to becoming hawk prey. Or coyote food. Or dog toys. We have a nice, big, fenced yard surrounded by trees for our chickens to run and play. But there are a couple of hens who insist that’s not good enough. I can almost hear in their squawking as I corral them back into their dwelling, why do you have this dumb fence, anyway? Why do I have to follow your rules?

Huh. That sounds familiar. The truth is my daughter has been heartbroken when her chickens get picked off. Heart. Broken. We keep them inside the fence so that they are safe, because, bless my little girl’s heart, she loves those feather-heads.

Rules are kind of like that, aren’t they? I’m squawking about the very thing that is intended to keep me anchored in safety. And by doing so, I’m questioning the heart of God.

You don’t want me to have any fun.

I love you, and I don’t want the talons of Satan sinking into your neck.

You think I can’t handle things by myself.

I know the prowling lion who waits to kill and devour.

Oh, feather-hearted soul, don’t misunderstand the heart of God. It is love that sets boundaries. It is grace that outlines the perimeter. Can you not trust the God who spared not his own Son to claim you for his own?

I Am Hidden In Christ

Hidden Under His Wings

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.  I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust!” … He will cover you with His pinions, and under His wings you make seek refuge; His faithfulness is a shield and bulwark. Psalm 91:1,4

I grew up in a big city, and it took moving to a bush village in West Africa to familiarize me with chickens.  They were suddenly a huge part of my life – always pecking around underfoot, crowing before the sun even thought about rising, getting all suicidal by running in front of my truck.  African friends gave me dozens.  Poultry was the accepted “thank you” gift, even if all I was being thanked for was a visit and a nice, long chat.

Mostly, I just endured my new feathered annoyances … I mean friends.  But, the one thing I loved about them was watching a mother hen with her fluffy little brood of chicks.  At night, she’d snuggle them down under her wings.  They’d disappear – hidden under her body.  How safe and secure those little ones were. Nothing was going to get them that didn’t go through Mother Hen first.

I loved watching that because of these verses.  Finally, I could picture it – God, snuggling me under His wings, protecting me from predators that would love to dine on my downy weakness.  God, hiding me in his vastness.

That isn’t to say that physical harm won’t assail me.  Jesus made it clear that often, following Him will bring us into danger.  But, those perils can only destroy my body.  My soul, the true me, is safely hidden with God, whether I dwell on Earth or in Heaven.

And Satan’s firey darts, the doubts and fears and faith-snatchers he hurls at me?  If I stay hidden under God’s wings, those things can’t hurt me.

My God is a shield and bulwark for me.  How thankful I am to be hidden in Him.